


Webs

by WritingsOfMyImagination



Series: Webs [1]
Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Light BDSM, Post-Spider-Man: Homecoming, Sexual Content, Smut, Superheroes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-14 06:35:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16907982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingsOfMyImagination/pseuds/WritingsOfMyImagination
Summary: Dating Peter Parker is hard when you have a spidey secret of your own





	Webs

 

 

  


 

_Shit!_

 You let your guard down or rather your spider sense was letting you down. Your face will certainly feel that tomorrow. You dodged another fist and swung your own aiming straight for his abdomen. A wail shrieked out of him as the air left his lungs and he crashed onto the floor. Blood glistened through his matted beard under the dim orange light of the dingy alley. Your arm extended behind you to catch an incoming kick and twisted. 

_At least my sense is partly working._

One of the assailant cried out “fucking bitch” bitterness and anger seething through his words as he spun and belly dived onto the floor smashing his face.

“Well if you weren’t criminals this wouldn’t be happening would it” you said breathlessly.

“Wise words” intruded a sprightly voice from above. Two wisps flew my ears, you turned quickly as two webs secured the bearded criminal behind you, your gaze moved to the origin of the webs. Spiderman was perched on a high wall half shrouded in shadow but his red and blue suit was unmistakable.

“I don’t need your help, how many times?” you spoke defensively glaring at him through your mask which was made out of lightweight Kevlar infused with a mixed titanium alloy. The mask was predominantly black; beneath the black lace webbed effect was a white underlay. This effect was consistent throughout the whole suit. It was created for you by The Mr Fantastic of your home universe to prepare for fighting the youngest of the inheritors; you barely escaped with your life through an unstable portal landing your sorry ass in this universe sharing it with the Spiderman of this world.

“Hey just your friendly neighbourhood Spiderman helping out another Spider-Woman…friend” he chirped happily. His positiveness always irritated the fuck out of you, if only he knew the true burden of the Spider.

“You and I must define friends very differently” you countered as equally playful. A smile protruding across your face involuntarily.

Spiderman raised his arm and sent another web whizzing past my ear, re-knocking out one of the guys to the floor. 

_What is happening with my sense!_

 I turned back around as Spiderman expelled another web to a further building, just before he leapt off 

“Hey Webs” you shouted, he turned.

“Thanks” you offered appreciatively. He returned silently with a relaxed salute before swinging off leaving you alone in the dim alleyway surround by battered green dumpsters. The criminals now conscious and crying out wiggling like worms against their restraints. The sounds of sirens prompted you to leave the area with haste. Lunging at the wall and releasing a web propelling from your embedded shooters under you skin and up into the night.

//

  You found yourself back in the dorm room in no time. Pulling yourself apart from the suit and heading straight to the mirror to see if any marks on your face had materialised; which you’d have to make an excuse for. A small pinkish mark was already pulsing on your cheek. Your body sauntered wearily through the studio apartment to a basic kitchenette area, opened a white door with a silver handle to reveal a fridge freezer;  successfully fishing a bag of frozen peas and grabbed a tea towel from the draw. You heavily slumped into a small two seater charcoal fabric sofa  and crossed your legs; hugged a pillow to your chest and let the makeshift ice pack cool down the throbbing skin. The bruising and pain wouldn’t last long with your healing abilities but you still needed to reduce as much of the swelling as possible. You leaned over a mound of cushions and clicked the TV across the other side of the room on. You needed some mind numbing TV and comedy central did the trick, South Park always does. You hated having to your injuries, especially to Peter. Your false reputation of being queen clumsy could only go so far.

After finally cooling down enough and it became to chilly to be sat in nothing but your sports bra and pants you hauled yourself to the bedroom chucking your fluffy pyjamas on and crashed into bed.

You was woken up gently by a soft hand delicately brushing at your choppy black fringe from your face.

“Morning beautiful” A silvery voice spoke, eyes opening gingerly and focused on the figure in front of you. Some of his short but wavy brown hair escaped his hair gel and flopped over his forehead. His young looking face, the mesmerising swirl of brown that coloured his pupils linked with you own Y/EC eyes. Peter was smiling sweetly and pushed forward an offering of sweet caffeine. You sat up slowly returning a grateful smile and shuffled the cotton sheets behind you.

 “Whatever did I do to deserve you Peter Parker, I definitely don’t regret giving you a key, you bring me things”

“Well you just knocked me off my feet” He smiled. You both exhaled a laugh. The thought of you completely taking him out while you were running all flustered and late to a lecture.

“You’re hilarious” you chirped

“You’re the plonker who walked into that one” Smiling back beaming at him accepting defeat and in taking the caffeine letting it burst it’s way slowly into your system.

“Speaking of walking into things” he gestured to your thankfully minimal bruise. He waited for you to respond.

“I’d like to give a cool story but I just dropped my phone on my face last night”

“Was there a rock attached to it?” He chuckled

 “Are you going to get ready now?”

“Yes, yes let me a grab a shower” you replied pushing him back and pushing yourself out of bed. You stripped your shirt off as you walked away and let it fall to the floor along with you bottoms; You smiled knowing full well Peter would be admiring the view. You’d given up athletics over 6 months ago but that figure of yours had still maintained its muscular definition which Peter found hard to resist at times. 

“No, you’re not joining me, we don’t have time” you said firmly His sigh could be heard from the next room.

 Finally clean, blasting your hair with a dryer; Peter interrupting you, his hands tracing your outline before gripping needily at your hips and pulling you back a step into him. He kissed your neck, exhaled breathlessly you turned around and laced a free hand through his hair. Clicking the dryer off and pushed his mouth to yours into a deep kiss; heat rising instantly between the two of you.  Youpulled away clicked the hair dryer back on into his face and laughed

“You need to be concentrating on the decathlon, then we have all afternoon and besides we can’t be late for your Aunt” It pained you to be the one with more self-control. Peter huffed and pouted and left you to finish getting ready

_Simple black skinnies with a white tank top and converse will do_

Academic decathlons were not a high priority for fashion. With that being said Peter was outfitted with a grey university team hoody and loose boyfriend jeans tucked behind the tongue of his black Nike hi-tops. You both smiled and headed out towards the auditorium.


End file.
